


(Never) Had Enough

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blood, Crying, Depression, Insecurities, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Harry, POV Zayn, Pining, Sad Harry, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, attempted suicide, not exactly a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 22:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6060940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even with a razor blade in hand, Harry can't seem to cut away his feelings for Zayn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Never) Had Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for self-harmers! Also sadness and suicidal thoughts.
> 
> Not exactly a happy ending here but I'm thinking of writing a part 2.
> 
> Also, this is a draft I've had for 2 years so blast yourselves back to the happy times of 2013 eh? ;)

__________________________________________________________________________________

 

(Harry's POV)

 

I wake up on Saturday way past noon. I know I've missed breakfast and lunch and I also know I won't end up eating dinner. One Direction is currently on an impromptu vacation for 'personal reasons'. At least that's what we've told everyone.

In reality, it's just because of me. The boys had started noticing my lack of appetite, my disinterest in band functions, my harsh behavior and how I've become withdrawn.

I didn't mean for it to get this way. I just can't find the motivation to do very much anymore.

I guess the reason is, I'm in love. I try to find the humor in the cliché-edness of my situation but I just can't.

It doesn't seem nearly as funny when it's you who's in love with your male best friend.

The best friend I'm talking about is Zayn Malik. My band mate, best mate and soulmate, though he doesn't know about that last one. I haven't told anyone about my preferred choice in lover and don't ever plan to.

Like I said before, I didn't ever mean for it to get this bad. I've known I was in love with Zayn for about a year now and for the first while I was doing just fine coping with it on my own.

It's this last month that has best the hardest.

Four weeks ago, the band decided to go to a bar to celebrate our new album and I was feeling rather sad for some odd reason. It was somewhere between Zayn's fourth girl and my fifth shot that I realized truly and fully for the first time that no matter what happened or what I did, Zayn would never love me the way I love him.

Once that thought had ingrained itself into my brain, more began to come.

What will I do for the rest of my life if I never stop loving him? Will I see him with hundreds of girls before finally finding one to marry, have kids and be happy with while I grow old and alone?

Will I have to pretend to love someone else and marry them just to have somebody to take care of me and keep me distracted from losing the love of my life to some beautiful woman?

And the what if's.

What if... he found out? What would he do, would he hate me? Be disgusted? I mean, all the lads are pretty okay with people who are LGBT but it's different when you're the one being pined after by another dude. 

I couldn't stop thinking about the loneliness of knowing I'll never be loved by Zayn.

I will never be held in those arms for longer than what is deemed "friendly". I will never get to look in those beautiful eyes and see unadulterated love shining back.

I will never kiss those lips or hear them say 'I love you'.

All of these thoughts were just too much to bear so I headed home early, not being able to watch girls throw themselves at Zayn any longer. I haven't been out to the bar with the lads since.

Throughout the next 2 weeks, I had become steadily more depressed. I just felt so helpless and hopeless and wanted to cry almost everyday. Now, every time I saw Zayn with a girl or he mentioned something about one, it sent sharp pain through my chest, whereas before it was nothing but a mild jealousy.

Things like eating and socializing seemed so unimportant and not worth the effort compared to the dilemma I was experiencing so I gave them up.

But, it wasn't until 2 weeks ago that the self-pity and self-hatred came. I began to realize that this whole thing was all MY fault. I'M the freak that's in love with his best friend. The pathetic little gay boy with the stupid crush and who will NEVER be loved!

At first I was angry at myself and took to cutting and smashing fists into my thighs repeatedly. I would drink and blast music through my headphones as a way to drown out my problems. But they were always there when I woke up in the morning. After a week, I stopped being angry at the unfairness of the world and myself. Instead I pretended I was dead.

Because I wanted to be. Dead, I mean.

And I planned to be by tonight. Despite everything though, I'm real sad that I have to do this to my family and the boys, especially Louis who had always been so protective of me.

I didn't know if Louis was in our flat right now or not because I haven't really left my room for two days but I had the door locked and the razor blades in my bedside table so it wouldn't matter anyway. 

I thought about writing a letter explaining everything but decided against it because I don't want Zayn to feel guilty about me killing myself over loving him. I don't want that on his conscience.

Maybe I should just send him a text saying I'm sorry? I should send that to all the boys but I don't want them to be suspicious so I'll wait until I'm almost gone.

I get up out of bed and walk to the closet where I put on the clothes I'd set out there. A pair of my black jeans and one of Zayn's white T-shirts that I'd borrowed from him a while ago and never returned.

Once dressed I returned to my bed and pulled the razor blade box out of the bedside table. I took one out and laid back on my bed. I propped myself up on my pillows and chucked the box on the floor.

I had spent so much time thinking and dreaming about this moment that now that it was finally here, it didn't seem as real as I'd imagined. 

I glanced to my phone on the bed beside and saw the time. 4:28pm. I wonder how long it will take me to bleed out...

Well, this is it, I think as I hold the razor up to my left forearm.

With slow, deep cuts, I retrace the days old scars of my previous cutting and make new ones to match. I don't stop until I've made 5 long, deep slashes on my wrist. Blood is pouring out of the wounds and my head is pounding.

I reach for my phone and open a new text typing "I'm so sorry for this" before sending it to all the boys.

I drop my phone back on the bed and I don't even have time to make my first slash on my right wrist before my phone starts buzzing with replies.

I ignore it and am able to make 3 more slashes on my right wrist before my arm feels too heavy and there's so much blood and all I can think is I hope it'll be enough to do it. Enough to end my life.

 

 

(Zayn's POV)

 

Louis, Niall and I are sitting around my flat hanging out when we get the texts.

Louis had requested a meeting with Niall, Liam and I earlier today but Liam couldn't make it because he was back home for his mum's birthday. Louis wanted to have the meeting anyway so I volunteered my flat.

When him and Niall got here I asked why Harry wasn't invited.

"Well because it's him we need to talk about.", Louis replied.

"What do you mean?" I asked, even though I already knew. All the boys had noticed Harry's strange and changing behavior over the last few weeks.

"He hasn't come out of his room for 2 days and every time I try to talk to him he just brushes me off and locks the door! The only time I've seen him is when came out to go to the bathroom once and he didn't look good at all. I know he hasn't been eating but it looks as if he hasn't been sleeping either. What scares me the most though are his eyes. They don't have any emotion in them. They're dull and it's like he's dead!", Louis started getting slightly hysterical near the end and my heart thumped in pain as he described the condition Harry was in. If we only knew what was doing this to him!

"Do you have any idea what this could be about?", asked Niall.

"No! I have no fucking clue and he won't talk to me and I think he needs some serious help and I think we should all try and talk to him together.", Louis cried.

"Well maybe we can figure it out," I say, trying to be logical. "When did it all start?"

"The night we went out to celebrate our new album.", said Louis. "He looked so sad and kept drinking shots while we all watched you get hit on by all those girls."

I remembered that night. We were meant to be out to celebrate but I was feeling oddly sad with no explanation. I just figured it was part if loving someone who could never return the feeling, experiencing periods of inexplicable sadness. So of course, to over compensate for my dreary mood, I hit up the ladies extra hard to fill the gaping void in my chest reserved for one of my best mates, over there sitting at the bar.

If only he knew.

"Yeah. He only stayed for like an hour and then left early, alone.", said Niall.

"It seemed like he was depressed for nearly two weeks after that. He didn't spend as much time with us and he just looked sad all the time.", Niall continued.

"Yeah he wouldn't even sit around and sing with us," Louis agreed. "But it was two weeks ago that he really started changing. I ran in to him in the hallway heading back to him room from the loo and he looked pale and in pain. I tried to ask him if he was alright but he just kept on walking like I wasn't even there! And another night I heard soft thumping in his room like he was throwing shit at the wall or something!"

I immediately snapped my head up and my eyes widened. He wouldn't....would he?

Niall and Louis must have noticed my expression because they both gave me questioning looks.

"What? What is it, Zayn?", asked Niall.

I gulped. "Um. You don't think he could be, you know....hurting himself?", I whisper the last part. I hurts so much to think of Harry doing that to himself, hating himself when I love him so much.

Louis immediately starts shaking his head. "No. No way my Harry would never even think about doing something like that. Right? Oh god, what if he has?! No, no no no."

Niall nods solemnly. "It makes sense. This one time he was coming down the stairs when I was going up and I think he was a little drunk because he wobbled on the stairs so I reached out and grabbed his arm to steady him. When I touched his arm, he flinched away like it hurt but the expression was gone so fast I thought I'd imagined it. But what if he's cutting himself and I'd touched one of his cuts?" Niall looked like he was about to start crying when mine, his and Louis' phones all went off at the same time.

I pulled out my phone to see it was a text from Harry.

I'm so sorry for this

My head snapped up to look at Niall and Louis and I saw identical expressions panic written all over their faces as I'm sure was on mine.

"No..", whispered Niall.

"He didn't," Louis burst out, sounding hysterical.

"Oh Harry," I breathed, absolutely terrified.

It took me two seconds before I burst into action.

I jumped up and started running for the door, hearing Niall and Louis following. I burst out of the flat and out on to the street before turning left and breaking into a sprint.

I thank God that mine and Harry's flats are only 3 blocks apart.

I find myself at Harry and Louis' front door in a matter of minutes and hang up the unanswered call to Harry that I hadn't even realized I had made.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. I push into the flat and run up the stairs to Harry's room.

My heart is beating so fast as I reach out to open the door to his room.

Locked.

I barely even think about it before I take a step back kick the door right off its hinges.

When I see Harry laying on the bed, passed out and covered in blood, I start sobbing.

"Harry. Harry, Harry no!", I repeat his name like a mantra as I rush to the bed, passing the discarded box of razor blades.

The first thing I do is to check to see if he's breathing. I let out a particularly loud sob of relief when I see that his chest is moving, even if just barely.

I rip his rumpled sheets up to his arms where I cover the cuts and apply pressure. I can't tell how many of them in total because of all the blood covering his arms.

"Oh my god Harry, wake up!", I say desperately.

Louis and Niall burst through the doorway, taking in the sight of a barely breathing Harry and the broken door while gasping for breath.

Niall immediately starts crying when he sees Harry and Louis runs over on to the bed on the other side of him, holding the sheets to his other arm.

"I called an ambulance while we were running over.", Louis choked out.

I take this opportunity to really look Harry over and I notice the things that Louis said, the paleness (though that's probably due to blood loss), the weight loss from malnutrition, and how he looks so sad even when he's unconscious.

I also notice that he's wearing one of my white T-shirts and how its now stained red with blood. Why would Harry choose to kill himself while wearing one of my shirts? I feel a fleeting feeling of guilt like this is all my fault but I push it away in favour of trying to get Harry to wake up.

"Harry," I say shaking him and still crying. "Oh god please Haz wake up please please. I need you Harry, you can't leave!"

I hear approaching sirens and Niall leaves the room in a rush, I guess to let the paramedics in and bring them up, but my attention never leaves Harry. I lay one of my hands on his chest and slowly slide it up to his collarbone, caressing his skin there.

I see Louis give me a questioning look for a second before realization lights his face. "You love him," he states.

I glance up a Louis for a second with watery eyes and nod sadly before I look back to Harry's face, my tears dripping on him.

I hear thundering steps on the stairs and Niall appears in the doorway with two paramedics following close behind. They approach the bed where Harry lies, still unresponsive, and gently shove Louis and I to the side.

The EMTs make quick work of checking Harry's vitals, patching the cuts, putting an oxygen mask on him, getting him on a stretcher and loading him into the ambulance.

I'm about to jump into the ambulance with him when one of the paramedics pulls me back and says "Sorry, sir, but friends aren't allowed to ride in the ambulance and this boy is a legal adult so nobody needs to go with him."

I glare angrily at the man before yelling, "Harry isn't just my friend he is the love of my fucking life and I will be damned if he leaves without me in that fucking ambulance!"

The guy looks at me stunned, before silently stepping away from the door of the ambulance and allowing me to get in.

I sit on the right side of where Harry is laying while the other EMT is on the left still working on him.

It's 7 minutes exactly before we reach the hospital and those 7 minutes consisted of tears silently sliding down my face as I grip Harry's hand and stare at his face, praying he'd just wake up already.

Once inside the hospital, Harry is taken away to be stitched up, given blood transfusions and evaluated and I'm unable to follow him so I sit out in the waiting room until Louis and Niall arrive.

It's 2 hours later before a doctor comes out to speak to us reading from a clipboard. "Harry Styles?", he says.

Niall, Louis and I jump up and rush forward. "Yes here is Harry ok?!", I ask.

The doctor lowers the clipboard and sighs. I feel panic flare inside before he says "Yes, Mr. Styles will be just fine. You got to him in time that it didn't cause any permanent effects and we've given him blood transfusions to replace what he lost. He just woke up about 10 minutes ago and is fully responsive with no brain damage. Though I must say that this was a very obvious suicide attempt and when I asked him about it he seemed almost upset that it didn't work. Because of this, I have put him on suicide watch as well as requested an immediate psychological evaluation and mandatory therapy sessions."

I felt like crying all over again just hearing these things being said about the man I love.

"Well he's awake now right? S-so can we see him?", I ask.

The doctor nods, "Yes but I'd advise that only one of you go at a time. He is most likely very sensitive to his situation right now and a lot of attention will not serve him well."

Niall, Louis and I nod and turn to look at each other. "Why don't you go, Zayn?" says Louis giving me a sad look.

I give him a grateful look and whisper "Thank you," as I walk by him towards Harry's room.

I open the door and walk in to see Harry sitting up in his hospital bed, his skin pale, with bandages covering both wrists and leather straps tying his arms to the low bed rails on either side of him.

He doesn't acknowledge me when I enter the room, just continues staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

"Harry." I whisper.

 

(Harry's POV)

 

He whispers my name so softly and brokenly. Like he doesn't know. Like it isn't his fault.

Though, I suppose it really wasn't. I never told him and he still remains blissfully ignorant to my love for him.

He approaches my bed slowly before sitting in the chair right beside it, as if not wanting to startle me. I bet I look pretty rough with these restraints on and the slightly blood stained bandages covering my arms.

Why is he the first one in here anyways? Its like Life is taunting me. You though you could escape this?

All my helpless emotions come crashing back and the feeling of calm relief I had from the cutting has now completely faded.

My face scrunches up as I fight to hold in the tears and I look down at my lap, breaking the unblinking stare I had on the wall in front of me.

Zayn seems to unfreeze as well because he suddenly he's rising to sit on the edge of the bed facing me and putting his arms around me in a hug. He pulls me close and rubs my back while burying his head in my neck and whispering, "Oh, Harry. I'm so so sorry. I can't believe you did this to yourself. How could I not have noticed? I was so scared when I found you passed out in your room. And all that blood. I thought I was going to lose you. But I need you, Harry. I need you." By the end he was crying and clutching me so hard and not making much sense.

I was completely baffled. Did my actions really hurt him this much? I could feel tears on my cheeks too, though my were a bit happier then Zayn's. How could I have wanted to give Zayn up? Even if he isn't mine to have, I still love him, he's one of my best friends and I know he'll never love me the way I want him to, but at least he's in my life, right?

A life that I am fortunate enough to still have. "I'm the one who should be sorry. You couldn't have known. I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I just didn't want to deal with it anymore." I say into Zayn's shoulder, inhaling his intoxicating scent of soap and manliness.

Zayn pulls away just enough so that we can see each other and our faces are inches apart. I look into his watery golden eyes as he says, "Why? Why did you do it? You know me and the boys are always here for you. We could have helped you." Then he whispers, "It never should have come to this."

I look away from his eyes, wondering when my life got so out if control. "I know..." I trail off weakly. It all seems so stupid now that I look back and think about it, I'd gotten completely carried away and imagined the worse things possible. I hate feeling like this. It makes me feel pathetic.

Zayn grabs my face and makes me look at him. "No. You don't get to go off and do something as reckless and stupidly selfish as this and not give a reason as to why you did it!"

I wrench face out of his grip and glare at him. This was exactly what I wanted to get away from. The judgement. I do something, and somebody is always there right after telling me how stupid I am for having done it. It makes me self-conscious and defensive. Sometimes, with the fans and their criticism, it has gotten so bad that I felt uncomfortable doing normal everyday things and I can't make simple decisions like what I should eat at a restaurant or whether I should wear a scarf or not because I'm too busy worrying about what other people will think.

Zayn seems to have sensed my change in mood because he starts to backpedal. "Wh-what I mean is that.. uh, well I don't think that you should have done it and..." he exhales a frustrated sigh before staring me in the eye and saying with much more strength and confidence, "Look. I'm sorry for calling you stupid and selfish because it really isn't true. I don't know what's got you so upset and I don't know what you're thinking so I'm in no place to judge. I was just scared and still slightly traumatized from finding you lying in a pool of your own blood and their actually being a chance that I might have lost you forever. That you might have died."

I soften at his words. He's right. I was a bit selfish in trying to take my own life. I didn't think of the people I would be leaving behind. What about my mother? How could I have wanted to leave her, we've always had such a good relationship and I cannot imagine what she's going to do when she hears about this.

My actions were quite stupid and impulsive as well. I had just gotten caught up in my own pity party and let my mind wander and imagination run free.

"Yeah I guess you're right, it was stupid. And selfish," I murmur to Zayn who looks at me with so much relief that I have to take a deep breath before continuing. "And I promise I won't ever try again. I can't imagine how my family is going to react once they find out."

"I just don't get why you did it! Please. Harry, please just tell me what's wrong.", Zayn begs.

 

"I'm fine. I told you I won't do it again, I'm okay now. It was nothing." I try to pass it off, I'm telling the truth about never doing it again but I still love Zayn. And Zayn still doesn't love me. I don't think I'll ever be great but I will be okay, as long as I have him in my life.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I would like to note that you can't love someone's mental illness away! This is mostly about Harry beginning to heal himself by coming to terms with the negative situations in his life and realizing that there is always something worth living for.
> 
> I'd like to make a part 2 though where feelings will be confessed and happy endings will be had!


End file.
